One of my students was lingering by my door after coming back from the restroom. I couldn’t figure out what he was staring at. Then I realized he was reading the birth announcement I had put up by my door.
“He’s a pretty cute kid, huh, D?”
“Yeah,” he admitted.
Another boy asked what D was looking at. “She put a picture up of the baby!”
“WHAT? Where?!” And he jumped out of his seat to go inspect the photo himself.
Let’s keep in mind these are teenage boys. Teenage boys who are delighted to see a picture of a baby. It’s just the sweetest.
I overheard a girl ask another student something in Spanglish. She gave some numbers in Spanish and then in the cutest accent said, “That’s right, right?” Her friend went on to briefly explain in their native tongue.
I love when I get to witness other cultures enter my classroom. I feel privileged to work in a very diverse district that serves children from all kinds of cultures and backgrounds.
Both of my parents are immigrants; I was born overseas; and I’ve lived in four countries. I know firsthand what it feels like to be an outsider. I know the loneliness of feeling like you’ve lost your identity. And that’s why when I hear different languages spoken at my school, it makes my heart soar. Because I know that–in that moment–those kids feel comfortable, safe, and at home.